Godly talks
by Raija Darknight
Summary: Chapter 2. Morgion drops by for a visit to Nuitari, talking about his recent encouters with "Di Tthong", and Nuitari gets something stolen.
1. Default Chapter

A cold breeze whispered across the dark glassy surface. Lights of red and white flared bright and powerful in the distance, but the gloom surrounding the solid darkness blocked all of it from ever touching the sleek glossiness. Slightly behind the ball of darkness, on its own plane, stood a sleek tower, it's clear black surface seeming to be transparent and solid at the same time. Loud voices from inside echoed softly before dying away.

"You are such a wimp!"

A man, standing six feet tall with slightly wavy black hair down to mid-neck looked up, black eyes inquiring. "Me?"

"Yes, you. I can't believe I ever spawned you!" A tall woman dressed in sleek black stood, glaring down. Her raven hair tumbled down past her bare shoulders. A slender finger was lifted, pointing across the room. "You can't control your lesser cousins as you should be able to…you can't even control your own followers—you're a failure!"

"I don't see you taking over the whole pantheon of the gods, O Queen of the Abyss—which I should add is no more that a very large, pink, and rather smelly litterbox. Five-headed dragon size, odd coincidence." Seeing Takhisis was speechless and spluttering, Nuitari continued smoothly.

"What do you mean unable to control my followers? Was I the one who won the 'largest number of converts to the opposite religion' award? No…I believe that was you. Five hundred followers all switching to Paladine. I should recommend you don't try to bake good-luck cupcakes for your armies again, _Taky_."

Small flames shot from Takhisis's eyes. "What about the mages who use dark magic without worshipping you? What of the black robes who go against you? I don't see you doing much to keep them in line."

Nuitari rolled his eyes, which had been liberally daubed with mascara and eyeshadow to give them a shadowed look. "The dark magic is all that matters. All that matters. The magic is my only love. It is. Yes." A glazed look began to spread over his face.

"Suure it is."

"What's _that _supposed to mean?!"

"Oh, just those rumors that have been swirling around." Takhisis made spirals in the air. "They say you're quite the mortal lover."

Nuitari chewed slightly on his lower lip. _What? What is she talking about? Wait…could she know…No! I will not be distracted!. Remember, you are evil. Eeeevil. Must stay distant and scholarly and cruel and cold. The mantra, what was it?! Evil is my life, magic is my purpose, I control the magic, I am the most powerful god of magic, I magus…Wait! That's not me! _Recovering his composure, Nuitari sniffed and stuck his nose in the air. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

Taky winked. "Don't worry. You know I totally approve of such dealings. As long as you don't make a mistake like…" Takhisis stopped, her lips twisting, smearing her black lipstick up her lip.

A sly smile. "Like Bast?"

"None of your business, brat!"

"Defeated by your own son, tsk tsk."

"At least I knew what I was doing when I fucked his father!"

Nuitari's eyes widened slightly. "Oh?"

The Queen of Darkness, pleased to have hit a nerve, continued, smiling smugly. " Oh yes. Quite in possession of my sanity. Now with Sargy…I believe I was drunk. Faerie wine. A bit dangerous, it makes the head spin. I believe your aunt got in trouble with that. Spiders and alcohol don't mix… So you see, _son, _you were a bit of an accident."

Nuitari, looking a teensy bit uncertain, asked, "But surely you would have done the same thing regardless of how drunk you were. " Alright, so it wasn't really a question.

"Weell, I don't think so. Why I would want to have a disgusting, insolent son like you? And the actual act was a bit hard. The feathers and beak…and those feet! Did you know condors pee on their feet?"

"No I didn't…disgusting? I'm not disgusting."

"Yes you are! You wear makeup!"

"So do you." Folded arms.

"It's not…I don't…you can't…" Finding herself once again at a loss of words, Takhisis settled for snapping, "Well, I wish I'd never had something like you!"

The effect was disturbing. Nuitari's eyes widened to an impossible size. Then they started shining, and a moment later a large, glistening, and highly dramatic tear slid down his cheek. The eye shadowing was not disturbed in the slightest. On the contrary, it appeared to cause parts of the tear to evaporate as it came down, sending a faint acid smell into the air.

"You…don't…love me?"

"I…" Taky was considering backing out of her disturbed son's moon and never coming back, but stuck to her normal, bitchy personality. "Of course I don't love you! I never have!"

Nuitari collapsed in tears, sniffling loudly. He sank slowly to the floor, head tilted back, with a recently appeared spotlight shining down on him. Then, to his mother's horror, he began to sing. "All alone in the daaarkness…All alone in the moooonlight…" His voice, while very appropriate for promising, lying, threatening, spellcasting, purring, and almost anything else, was not very appropriate for singing soppy songs. The notes came out soft and cold, and warbling horribly. It was somewhat equivalent to ice cubes put through a powerful suction.

Nuitari looked up through bleary eyes and stuck his hands out very slightly. Taky, growling and cursing under her breath, but willing to do anything to make him stop, stomped forward and hugged him. After her attempts to crush him failed, Takhisis stepped back, winced, and vanished to take a long, boiling-hot bath. Nuitari, still hiccupping a bit, went to bed with a glass of warm milk.


	2. Morgion

I own everything! But…not this. And all the other stuff. Oh shut up. 

Another day, one that wasn't as bad as usual. If those abominable cousins of him hadn't kept bothering him, it might have even been decent. But no, they had.

            Nuitari snorted. 'You're wrong cousin,' and 'what's the matter with you? Do you care only for yourself' had haunted him throughout the day. He obviously did. But they wouldn't know that. They had only spent millennia upon millennia with him. How would they know him? And wasn't he the god of dark magic? He cared for his magic and himself, which was all. And to top it all of, he'd lost one of his magical artifacts. No, lost was the wrong word. He didn't 'lose' things. One of the other gods had taken it, as no mortal could approach his tower. 

            Nuitari sat down on his glassy black floor. A thick velvet carpet appeared beneath him, stretching across the floor. It was, of course, black. He stretched his legs out, conjured up a book, and had just begun to relax when a distant 'ping!' and a reverberating through the air alerted him to someone's approach. He sent out minor wave of magic to dissuade anyone, but whoever it was kept coming.

 A green plane of energy opened in the corner of his tower. Nuitari glared at it. He did not want to see anyone. He stood up, restoring his usual cold façade. A stench reminiscent of bacteria cultures pervaded the crisp atmosphere of his tower, and a hooded figure stepped out of the portal. 

            He was tall as Nuitari, glad in grayish-black robes with a hood over his head. Red slits of eyes peeked out. Nuitari sighed.

            "What, Morgion?"

            Morgion let out a hissing chuckle. "I have mutsh to talk about wifh you." His voice came out in a gurgling hiss with a lisp. He coughed and spat blood on the immaculate floor. Nuitari winced.

               "Yes, yes. I thought as much."

            Morgion waked over and stood before Nuitari. Nuitari's nose wrinkled at the stench of decaying flesh. His tower would have to be scalded before it smelled blank again. He sat down again, a chair appearing beneath him. He waved Morgion to one facing him. "Now…_what_ did you want?"

            Morgion sat. A puddle of green liquid began to seep from his feet. "I wiff to talk about Guarrand di Thhong." He seemed incapable of pronouncing anything correctly. 

            Nuitari waited. "Well, talk." He made a conscious effort to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He also did not correct Morgion on his 'thong' pronunciation 

            Morgion settled himself deeper into the chair, and cleared his throat. It was rusty sound. "You pwomithed me your moon would thtop the mortalths from healing."

            "So I did. And, if I remember correctly, it did stop them. _Your_ little deal with the rogue went quite well. As well as my deal went with the young red robe."

            "Yeth! You made a deal wiwth him! With di Tthong!!!! My poithonous, wonderful diseashe was ruined! " Morgion was leaning forward, blood flecked spit flying in Nuitari's direction. He leaned backwards, avoiding the disease ridden liquid.

            Nuitari stifled a small chuckle. "I may have promised you my moon would keep them ill, but I said nothing about not helping myself to what I can gain." He raised an eyebrow. "And perhaps next time you will tell me when dealing with a rogue using _my _magic for his arts."

            Morgion's red eyes flickered slightly, and he made some awkward noises. "Ahh, yeth. I wath going to tell you, but I thimply hadn't the thime." Greenish yellow liquid was slowly soaking the chair.  Nuitari frowned at it.

            "Are you sick, Morgion? Has the god of disease actually become ill himself?" It was quite easy to clean the chair, or just get rid of it, but still. Evil that he was, _he_ didn't go leaking all over his fellow gods furniture. 

            "No, ith jutht…" *mumble mumble mumble* 

            Nuitari leaned forward, cupping an ear. "Yes?"

            The blackness in Morgion's hood took on a distinct reddish tone. "I lotht a bet, okay?"

            "A bet."

"Yeth. About thome morthal girl. One of yourth, I beliveth. The bet wath whether sthee would geth away with a prankth. And I learned thee did, and tho I had tho pay up." 

 Nuitari leaned back, slightly confused. "Your wager was you would get yourselfth, _yourself_ sick?"

"Yeth! With one of my mosth foul ditheases!" He sat up straighter. " I thpent months ddevloping it. And now, wathted! On me!" 

"And this prank? And…this girl…one of mine." Nuitari made a small, strangled noise as realization hit him like the proverbial sledgehammer. 

"Yeth," Morgion continued in his annoying lisp, completely oblivious to the implications of what he was saying. "Sthee was thupposed to stheal something of ours. The godths. I wonder who thee stole it from?"

Nuitari sat up, an image of the missing magical device, a rare crystal, flashing into his mind. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I must go." He vanished without a word. Morgion shrugged, and took a little walk around Nuitari's tower, trailing pus and blood, before he vanished to find some chicken soup. 


End file.
